The Devil's Rage
by Eryis
Summary: When friends are hurt and enemies made, there's no escape from the Devil's rage - After an attack on Fairy Tail mages that left his close friends in danger, Freed Justine makes it his goal to obtain vengeance on the leader who caused his comrades the pain. When he sees the man responsible, the Devil's rage is revealed and nothing can stop him.


**The Devil's Rage**

Freed hardly ever saw red. For the most part, the rune mage had complete control over his emotions. He would make sure to think through his actions before taking them in all situations, making sure that he never made a mistake by rushing to do what his passion told him. With the destructive, dangerous power he possessed that meant he could kill with a single word, anger was a luxury he could sparsely afford. So, on the rare occasion when he was truly angry – when the red mist descended before him – someone was in danger.

As he walked through a darkened alleyway, hand clenched around the hilt of his sword with his knuckles white, Freed was enraged. He barely managed to keep control of himself; his inner demon was screaming to take its own form of vengeance, but he had enough sense to know this wasn't the right course of action.

However, he knew this resistance to his demon only came through the need to feel retribution from his own hand.

Two days prior, the doors to the guildhall had been flung open and the Trimens had rushed through them. Upon turning to the Blue Pegasus' mages, Freed's stomach had dropped. Bickslow, obviously beaten to a near pulp, was limping in over Ren's shoulder and Wendy, unconscious and covered in dried blood, was being carried by Hibiki. They had immediately been rushed to guild's medical bay, leaving the hall with no answers as to what had happened and why their guildmate's were in such an injured state.

After a day of recovery, Bickslow had been allowed to have a guest in his room and Freed was the first there. After making sure his teammate wasn't as injured as he looked and that his recovery was going well, he asked what had happened. When Bickslow explained, his blood felt as if it was boiling.

Bickslow and Wendy had gone on a mission together; the young healer had taken to joining the members of the Raijinshuu on missions from time to time to push her healing and combat abilities. After the two had completed their mission, they had been ambushed by a known dark guild who, up until that point, had done nothing but small robberies and the occasional alleyway hold up. The guild had recently gained a new leader, a mage who could dispel and cancel any mage's magic in an instant. He'd also trained the members in organised combat and had got them to a point where they needed to prove their guild was a threat by making a spectacle out of some strong mages. Bickslow and Wendy had been the unfortunate mages who had been chosen for this.

The two had been jumped on by some of the guild's goons, the leader immediately cancelling out their magic. Wendy, who was exhausted already from healing nearly half of a small village from illness on their mission, had taken a sharp blow to the back of her head; her lack of energy had rendered her almost immediately unconscious. Bickslow had immediately jumped to protect her, taking multiple blows that he couldn't retaliate as he protected the unconscious girl from further harm.

Their saviours, the Trimens, had only been there by chance. They had been undergoing a mission in the area and stumbled across the ambush, quickly defeated the goons, the surprise of their attack working to their advantage, and quickly brought the two Fairy Tail members back to their guild.

Upon hearing the story, Freed had become livid. Bickslow immediately sensed this and had done his best to calm him down, but the news that Wendy needed to be placed into a short-term coma had countered anything Bickslow had said. The moment Bickslow's visiting hours had ended, Freed had left the guildhall without speaking a word to anyone and began to walk towards the dark guild's headquarters.

His teeth gritted slightly as he saw the flickering neon bar-sign. The dark guild was known both by Fairy Tail and the rune army but, as their actions had been of minimal consequence until their actions against Bickslow and Wendy, they had gotten away with only having the occasional slap on the wrist. They were even allowed to maintain their base of operations at a dingy bar in the middle of Magnolia, the same bar Freed was approaching.

But as he placed a hand on the door, he paused.

He was angry, true. It was his anger had lead him to the bar and had fuelled his actions through the day. But he needed to be smart about what he did next. The Trimens testimony of the attackers being the dark guild might not be believed by the army, which would mean he would be seen as using an unneeded amount of force without justification, leading to a suspension from guild work.

As he remembered the sight of Wendy lying unconscious on a bed, and the scars and injuries covering Bickslow's body, any doubt died away. Vengeance was needed, that was fact.

Opening the door, he made sure to slam it against the wall as to get the attention of everyone inside. It worked. Heads turned towards him as he walked into the dimly lit room, dark guild members looking him up and down. He could feel a relatively strong magic presence as he walked into the near silent room as some of the goons readied spells to attack him.

Slowly walking to the centre of the bar, he could hear his boots click against the wooden floor. All eyes were on him, and he was quickly assessing the room himself. His eyes quickly settled on a man at the bar, clearly the newly appointed leader.

He was tall, had jet black hair and an almost teasing smirk on his face. His pupils were dilated, red and conveyed a lust for harm that Freed rarely saw. His clothes exposed the majority of his torso, stance open and almost predatory and he was scanning Freed with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Freed met the gaze without blinking, showing no visible signs of intimidation. This made the leader's smirk falter slightly.

Before the two could engage, a roar came from Freed's left. He glanced towards the source to see one of the goons, hand manipulated into a sharp blade of diamond, sprinting towards him with the intention of attacking. Freed simply raised his left hand, his eyes pulsed with magic energy and a large wall of runic writing formed. The goon stopped before slamming into it, however another pulse of energy sent the runes barrelling towards him and pushing him against the wall, crushing him slightly. The runes then shifted instantly, turning from a single wall into rope-like bounds that kept him held against the wall.

Another member rushed towards him, this one having two daggers appear in her hands as she ran. Freed looked towards her, eyes swirling with purple energy as he made eye contact. The moment he did, he whispered the word 'agony' under his breath and implanted a rune on her forehead. She fell to the floor, withering and clutching her head in pain as the spell took effect.

A third goon stood up from beside the leader, thorns immediately covering his large muscles as he stalked towards Freed. The rune mage removed his sword, pointing it directly as his neck with dead eyes. The thorn covered man stopped in his tracks, obviously seeing from the treatments of the other guild members that Freed was in no mood to be messed with. When Freed glanced to the side for a split second, the thorn covered man walked towards there obediently. The glare on his face did nothing to threaten Freed as he looked back to the leader.

"A little Fairy, fluttering his way into the Demon's Jaw." The leader spoke with amusement and mirth, eyes dilating further as he looked to Freed. "The name's Maw. To what do I owe the displeasure?"

The leader, Maw, jumped up from the barstool he was sitting at and walked towards Freed. His stance was confident, antagonising almost. The confident of the dark-mage was evident as he walked so he was chest to chest with Freed, the smirk showing off a mouth filled with animal like teeth and the tongue of a snake. His eyebrows narrowed into a sharp 'V' shape as he looked at the green haired man up and down.

Freed wasn't affected by the show of confidence. He met Maw's eyes and made sure to maintain the gaze, unblinking and hardened. The grasp of his sword, which he had placed back in his scabbard again, tightened slightly. But he didn't act. Not yet.

"Some fancy magic there." Maw continued, not seeing the tightened grip on Freed's sword. "I assume you're not here to shed your wings and join me. It'd be nice to have a little fire power; even after weeding out the weakest members of this little club, they have the cumulative power of an ant in the middle of winter."

At these words, Freed glanced around to gauge the reactions of the 'guild' members. Firstly, there was no dispute of protest at the description of their power. With Freed's knowledge of dark-guilds, and the fact their members were practically all egotistical and power-mad, this exemplified the power that Maw had over them all. He also noticed a sense of sadness from some members, those who weren't in pain at least. It made the rune mage wonder what was meant by 'weeding out', but it was hard to feel sympathy for them with what they had done.

"Speaking of plucking up pathetic little weeds, how are your colleagues?" Maw grinned as he swaggered back to the bar. "I suppose I should apologies, leaving you with the inconvenience of cleaning up my mess. I intended for them to be killed, but obviously that's not possible with the braindead _morons_ in this room. Still, the ones that failed me know how to effectively kill now. Its just a shame they were so willing to participate in the demonstration. As the victims, obviously."

If it hadn't been obvious before, Maw's insanity and threat was evident in his words. It did little to calm him, however, to have the deaths of those who had harmed his friends alluded to. They had been nothing more than foot-soldiers; Maw was in charge and he needed to be punished for his actions.

With an audible shimmer, Freed removed his sword again and walked towards the bar. Maw had the same smirk on his face, leaning against it with the same predatory smile on his face. Freed noticed that a magic circle had formed around the dark-mage's hands; if he wanted to subdue Freed's magic then he should have done it already. That meant he either needed physical contact to perform his cancelling spell, or he was toying with him. It didn't matter, Freed didn't need his magic to make his point clear.

"You orchestrated an attack on a child. A child who is now lying in a coma." Freed spoke with vicious calmness. "Any creature who can cause this without remorse loses the right to call themselves human."

"Oh. So he speaks." Maw laughed loudly. "And making such vicious remarks. Hitting me were it hurts. My humanity! Let me tell ya something, Fairy. In my line of work, humanity ain't needed."

"Perhaps not." Freed walked forward slightly. "But for me, humanity lets me know how I should treat a foe."

Freed slowly raised his sword forward, the tip of the blade resting it against the curvature between the mans chest. Maw didn't seem affected, instead laughing a little at the action. Freed didn't let it affect him, instead quickly swiping his sword to the right in a sharp movement. A gash appeared on the mans exposed chest, blood dribbling down slightly and painting the tip of his blade red.

But the cut wasn't the intention. The movement of the sword had cut into the leg of the barstool Maw was leaning on. The stool, clearly shoddily made, collapsed and took the dark-mage with him. Maw had laughed as he rested his back against the bar in a sitting position, watching with what seemed like amusement as Freed placed the sword against the now bleeding chest. Maw leant up slightly, testing to see how hard Freed was holding the sword against him; the sword didn't move, neither did Maw.

"Well, what are you gonna do then?" He taunted. "You're a good little Fairy. Loyal and strong. But you're on the side of the heroes, and that leaves you with one little flaw. You're got far too many morals to follow through on what you're doing. Sorry."

"I may side with the heroes, yes." Freed had the smallest of smirks on his face. "But I can assure you, I am not as clean cut as you expect."

Freed's movements were fast and seemed well practiced. His left foot fell back slightly for leverage, his right hand pulled back an inch and took the sword forward, and his eyes narrowed slightly. With a sharp, calculated thrust, the blade of his sword tore apart the skin of Maw's chest and sliced through his body completely, sliding out the other side and slamming into the bar. The sickening sound of flesh being torn apart by metal was covered by the loud screaming of the dark-mage as blood slowly spilled out of his body and across the sharp blade.

The state of Freed's minds could be encapsulated with his thoughts as his blade imbedded itself in the dark-mage's body. The scream had fallen on deaf ears, and the feeling of his sword against tissue as it was ripped apart did nothing to deter his actions. His only thought was the inconvenience of cleaning his sword of the blood that would be staining it.

Maw's eyes were wide as his screaming died down slightly to a whimper, looking at the blade sticking out of his chest. Freed had used his sword with precision, the blade hadn't hit any bones nor organs, just cutting through flesh. On the other side of the man's now penetrated back, the sharp tip of the sword had broken through the floorboards and was truly pinning Maw to the floor.

"I perfectly created an incision that will only allow the smallest of bleeding while the sword it still inside of you." Freed spoke with a maintained calmness. "But, when I do remove it, you'll be bleeding badly. So, while we talk, I'll give you the privilege of only having to worry about the pain you're in."

His hand was still resting on the hilt, pushing down ever so slightly to add to the pain. Maw groaned loudly, nails scratching at the floor as his eyes clenched shut. All signs of his earlier bravado had fell, the room watching Freed with fear.

"You mock my guild, but you must know that we have destroyed many dark-guilds with more power than you. You're a little worm compared to them." He spoke with a glare. "But I know that, if you were left to fester in your filth ridden lifestyle, you could become powerful."

As Freed spoke, he slowly turned the blade ever so slightly. It expanded the size of the wound by a fraction, the blood leaking out of the wound doubling. Maw began to thrash his head against the back of the bar, his groan returning to a scream as the pain multiplied and his flesh was cut by sharp steel. He looked at Freed with pleading eyes, he saw no sympathy in the mage's expression.

"Your intention was to kill my friends. To kill a child." Freed's voice was quiet. Chilling. "I could rip your flesh apart, feel the blood cover my claws and watch as the life drains from your eyes. Perhaps I should, the vengeance would be justified. But no, I won't." His eyes narrowed, and smirk intensified. "That's far too instant for what you deserve."

Having been turning the sword clockwise, he quickly changed the direction and further widened the hole in the other mans torso. Maw's scream got louder, the agony he was in evident as his voice cracked. His eyes were shut again, breath leaving his lips in short, pained bursts. Still, Freed had no sympathy.

"What you deserve, Maw, is torture."

Freed raised his free hand and runes began to form around it. The dark-mage sensed the rise of magic energy and looked at the runes, moving his hand to cancel out the spell, but the pain of moving was too much, and he had to stop himself. He was left helpless as the runes slowly floated towards his face, implanting itself with a stinging sensation. Maw winced, the blade digging into his exposed flesh and adding an entirely new level of pain to the situation. He screamed again, louder this time.

On Maw's face, the runes settled and seemingly disappeared. His eye swelled with darkness, fog covering it as the runes took effect. His eyeball became completely black, showing no pupil nor functionality. The man was now half blind, but that was nothing compared to the true function of the runes.

"I've implanted a dormant rune in your DNA." Freed smirked. "And it will stay dormant if you behave yourself. So, the moment you or anyone affiliated to your little guild causes anyone any harm, it'll activate. And I'm sure you're just dying to know what the affect actually is. But you'll need a little context for that, just to make my intentions clear.

"It takes a lot to get me truly angry. And when I was informed of what you did, I was angry." Freed's teeth clenched slightly. "The surge of emotions was catastrophic, sickening and hell to experience. I want you to feel exactly like I did in that moments, but I don't believe a creature such as yourself can experience emotions. I believe you've detached yourself from humanity to the point where emotions are unimportant. An afterthought, if you will.

"But I still want you to feel it. What I felt was hell, and you deserve that feeling. And I intend to give you that feeling in a very literal sense. You made me so angry that my blood boiled, so I think I'll return the favour."

Maw's eyes widened, cowering slightly. His whimpered as the sword rubbed against his flesh as he did this, more scared of the man before him than the sword pinning him to the floor. The threat, spoken in such a calm yet venomous tone, broke every façade that he had created. At that moment, the dark-mage was just as scared of Freed as his victims were of him. He felt as nauseated, panicked and resigned to his fate as he expected Freed to have felt. His breathing was more and more erratic as he looked into the mans cold expression with his one working eye. The regret on his face was evident, but Freed didn't care.

"The moment you, or any of your pathetic little guild, touch anyone I consider a friend or ally, your blood will burn you alive." Freed slowly twisted the sword again.

"P-please…" Maw's voice wavering slightly. "Please don't."

"Why? If I hadn't done this, you'd be threatening me, harming my friends and succumbing to the urges you have that can only be described as evil. You made a spectacle out of my friends and nearly killed them, I'm simply returning the favour." Freed growled. "Why the hell should I show you mercy when you wouldn't have done the same for me?"

When Maw didn't respond, Freed knew he had justified his actions. He stood up from the crouched position he was in, hand still remaining on the hilt of his sword. With as much precision as his initial stabbing, Freed slid the sword out from the mans body. He pulled out a handkerchief from his inner breast pocket and wiped it down the blade, ridding it of the blood as Maw cautiously brought his hands to an openly bleeding wound. Freed didn't focus on this, tossing the blood drenched handkerchief to the floor and allowing a member of the dark guild to run to their boss with bandages and hands glowing a blue aura associated with healing. He preferred it if he was healed, his torment would be prolonged if he didn't bleed out here.

The rune mage returned his sword to the scabbard, turning his back to Maw as he walked towards the door. All eyes were on him as he walked, other than the mage who was healing the open wound of his leader. Half way towards the door, Freed stopped, turned on the spot and looked directly towards Maw again.

"I should give you fair warning. Dormant runes aren't the most reliable spell." He smiled. "Don't get me wrong, they still are effective. It's the dormant aspect that causes trouble. Sometimes, they just activate without any provocation. I hope that doesn't bother you, living with the constant threat of a painful death that could occur at any moment could be quite unpleasant. Good day."

Freed turned back to the door again. Maw watched with his single eye as Freed left the bar, boots slightly blood stained as they clicked against the floor. He didn't close the door after him as he turned the corner and left the dark-mage's sight. For a moment, he thought he could see sharp, twisted horns flicker into sight above the mans green hair. Maw slumped against the bar top, eyes fluttering closed as the pain overtook him. The dark-mage had only one thought as he fell into an unconscious state.

That man was no Fairy. Nor was he human. He was a demon. The devil incarnate.


End file.
